


Screw With One, Screw With Them All

by Iminaloine



Category: Powerpuff Girls
Genre: Angst, Boomer being bullied, Brotherhood, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Gen, Light Angst, Protective Brick, Protective Butch, Strong Language, because the boys are the boys duh, mild blood warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26166961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iminaloine/pseuds/Iminaloine
Summary: In which Boomer gets picked on by a rather overenthusiatic normie, and Brick and Butch set aside their sibling rivalry for once. Oneshot, Boomer-centric. Rated T for mild language and pretty intense threats. I craved the Ruffs being true siblings, so I wrote it.
Relationships: Boomer/Brick/Butch (PPG), But agape love obviously
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Screw With One, Screw With Them All

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note: the boys are in seventh grade, and are fourteen.

Boomer's gotten pretty used to the taste of dirt over the years. He's been shoved into it constantly enough that it's not as jarringly unpleasant as it used to be. It is extremely irritating, however, when he's in the school field after school, being kicked in the dirt by someone exponentially weaker than him.

Spencer Fisherton. Sounds like a name some really overworked, fat businessman with no friends would have, in Boomer's opinion. It's also the name of the kid who's been bullying Boomer for the past few weeks. The kid whose bullying Boomer's been _allowing_ to happen, so he doesn't get himself and his brothers in trouble.

As the toe of Spencer's sneaker violently collides with the side of Boomer's face, the blonde contemplates grabbing the foot of his greasy-haired assailant and effortlessly breaking the connected leg in half. The thought is... _tantalizing_ , to say the least.

But he remembers Miss Keane's sharp words. The angry edge to her normally sweet voice. His fingers curl in the dirt as Spencer's foot comes down on the small of his back, and he hates how tears prick at his eyes at the intense pain.

He hates this. He hates this so much.

A hand grabs the back of his shirt, and all at once he's dragged from the dirt and pulled up until he's face to face with the skinny, frowning bully. God, he's ugly as hell.

"You're really making it hard for me to let you off the hook, Dumbest," Spencer spits. He only ever calls Boomer 'Dumbest', after his stupid old villain title. "All I want is for you to say sorry."

He stays stubbornly quiet, his lips turned down in a scowl. It wasn't even his fault; Spencer had stuck out his foot while Boomer had been walking past, but had miscalculated. Boomer ended up stepping heavily on the brunette's sneaker before faceplanting into the floor.

And for some reason, this guy wants Boomer to apologize, even though he got the worst of it?

At his silence, Spencer sneers. And then suddenly blinding pain blooms across Boomer's already-aching forehead, making his head snap backwards violently. The world hazes out for a few seconds, weird white lights passing across his vision.

For a normie, the guy's a heavy-hitter, Boomer can admit. He's got a pounding headache now, and his entire body is a horrible mix between dull pain and complete numbness. He wants to hit this guy so bad.

_I really thought you'd gotten better, Boomer. I really did._

He winces, both at the sudden memory and the intense throb of pain in his head. He can feel warm liquid trickling down his nose; Spencer actually headbutted him hard enough to draw blood. _He wants to hit him so bad._

_This is getting out of hand. I'm afraid that if you injure any more students like this, even one more time, you'll be expelled. And since your brothers were very happy to help you send someone to the hospital, they'll go too._

He hates this so much. He hates being at the mercy of someone he can very easily pummel into the ground. But he doesn't want to get expelled. He doesn't want his brothers to get mad at him. He doesn't want Miss Keane to get mad at him again. Even if she doesn't know that he never started the fights he got into. Even though everyone immediately started to mess with him when he stopped being a villain, because he was the weakest. The easiest to outmanoeuvre, and possibly win against.

If it means he has to endure this, so his brothers can sail through the rest of middle school without any problems, then he'll do it. Even if they'd still be untouchable without him. Even if they'd never do this for him, and only got involved in his fights for the thrill of it. Even though he's the weakest link, not worth fighting for, or worth helping.

A flurry of blows to his stomach send blood spurting out of his mouth. He staggers backward, vision swimming with tears, head too sore to form coherent thoughts. He spits blood; it lands directly on one of Spencer's sneakers. The scraggly boy lets out an aggravated growl, his face screwing up in fury.

"You little idiot!" he roars, punching Boomer square in the nose. This time something cracks, and Boomer sprawls into the ground, tasting dirt again, his fingers pressed to his face. The pain is so bad that he can't even see anything but blurry shapes at this point. Most of his body is numb now, courtesy of the Chemical X. But he wishes it could do its job quicker.

Boomer can make out Spencer's profile as he marches over to him. This time, a pained whine escapes his lips, a muffled cry for mercy.

Spencer simpers. "Now you talk," he says. "Well, it's too little, too late."

He can only whimper as Spencer raises his leg, prepared to bring it down on his stomach. He squeezes his eyes shut, bracing for the pain.

"Hey, what the fuck are you _doing_?"

Boomer's eyes fly open at the same time Spencer backpedals a good five feet, looking positively terrified. Brick and Butch are standing a few metres away from the fight, and Butch's expression is the angriest Boomer has ever seen.

"You piece of—"

"Wait," Brick cuts in, holding up a hand to stop Butch in his tracks. For once, the raven-haired teenager listens.

Brick's blank expression doesn't falter as he walks over, though Spencer's terrified one gets worse the more the distance between them decreases.

"Spencer, my man," Brick says. Spencer audibly gulps.

"H-hey, Brick," he stutters with a nervous laugh. "How-how's it going?"

Brick ignores the question, his lips quirking in a small, amused smile. He casts a glance at Boomer's trembling form and clicks his tongue. "I see you were teaching my idiot brother some kind of lesson."

The bully's expression brightens somewhat; he's obviously relieved that the redhead isn't mad at him. "Uh, yeah—yeah, I was, 'cause Dum— _Boomer_ was being stupid earlier."

"Per usual."

Spencer chuckles. "Heh, y-yeah. Sometimes you just gotta get your point across, ya know?"

"Yeah. And you might as well show off your strength while you do it. I get ya," Brick says. His gaze is now trained on his right hand, held in front of his face. "I _totally_ understand you, Spence."

"Heh. I knew you would," the brunette says. Boomer can see Butch snarling, even with his less-than-reliable vision.

"It's always cool to make dumbasses know their place with your fists," the redhead says. "It's the most satisfying thing, isn't it, Spence?"

"Yeah, totally!" Spencer is talking animatedly now, all traces of his earlier fear gone. "Especially when they think they're all that. Some people need to be brought down a coupla' notches."

"Yeah. I always build up my strength. Though it's for the thrill of putting morons in their place than anything else. That alone is enough to give me a huge power boost." Brick suddenly stares right into Spencer's eyes, his hand still held up. "Like how I've just recently discovered that I can retain enough strength in my right hand to shatter a human skull with just one punch."

The grin slips off of Spencer's face so fast it gives Boomer whiplash. He blanches and takes a step back. Brick is smiling wider now, his fingers curling threateningly.

"I haven't actually tried it out yet, but I'm dying to do so." All of a sudden, the smile is gone, replaced by a very intense, _very threatening_ expression. "And if you screw with my baby brother _one more time, Spence_ , you'll gain the privilege of becoming my very first test subject. _Whether you like it or not_."

"And I'd always be happy to help," Butch finally speaks up, his expression murderous and his hands sparking with green energy.

The air is suddenly extremely tense. All Boomer can hear is the sound of his breathing slowing, becoming less ragged. His entire body is numb now, his vision clearing and his senses returning just enough for the disbelief to hit him fully.

Are his brothers actually threatening someone...for his sake?

"I hope we've made ourselves perfectly clear, _Spencer_ ," Brick says, his stare unwavering.

Spencer flounders for a second before breathing, "Crystal."

"Great!" Brick shouts suddenly, slapping his hands together loudly enough to make the brunette almost jump right out of his skin. " _Now scram, you piece of trash_."

Spencer flees without so much as a glance backwards. Brick watches him go, waiting for his retreating form to disappear around a corner before turning and rushing towards Boomer. Butch does the same, the two of them helping him to his feet.

"Ow," he grunts at a bit of residual pain in his back, and then chuckles quietly. "He messed me up pretty ba—OW!"

"You idiot!" Brick slaps him upside the head once again, for good measure. "I know you're all emo because Miss Keane bitched at you about staying in line the other day, but I didn't know you had it bad enough to _let_ your ass get handed to you by a normie!"

"You know why—ugh! Stop hitting me!"

"I'll hit you if I wanna! You sure as hell let that shithead go ham on your ass, you moron! Why the hell would you let him pummel you when everyone in this fucking school knows you could send him home in a body bag if you wanted to— _stop smiling and let me yell at you_!"

Boomer giggles despite himself. "Sorry," he mumbles. "It's just—thanks. A lot."

The eldest triplet let's out a huff and ruffles the blonde's hair annoyedly. "You're our little brother," he says matter-of-factly. "We gotta' watch out for you."

"He's right, though," Butch pipes up. "Why would you just sit there and take that fucker's shit? You literally coulda' gone full Saitama on his ass, but you sat there and let him beat on you like you couldn't do anything else!" he flicks Boomer's forehead in irritation, earning a cry from the youngest triplet. "Since when did you let your ass get kicked like a weakling?"

"Since we got put on probation!" Boomer snaps, suddenly angry. "I don't want us to get expelled! You guys would get mad at me and then I'd get beaten up anyway!" he scowls down at his feet, hating the tears in his eyes and the wobble in his voice. "What's the point if someone else does it? It's the same thing. I'm the one on the receiving end either way."

They all fall silent. Boomer refuses to look up, because one of them is probably gonna conk him on the head again. It's a cycle he's long since gotten used to.

Instead, Butch says, "Look, when—when we kick your ass, it's...different. We don't do it outta malice." he stalls. "Well, maybe we kinda do, but it's not we-hate-you malice."

"Feels like it," Boomer mutters.

Brick sighs. "Just because we kick the crap out of you a lot of time doesn't mean we don't care about what happens to you," he says. "You're our brother, Boomer. Our baby brother. If anyone messes with you, they mess with us, too.

"But we don't intervene a lot of the time because we know you're strong enough to fend for yourself. So when you let yourself get folded, it pisses us off. And when we're mad, we...break shit. We're Rowdyruffs. Our first instinct is to fight."

Boomer doesn't respond, but he looks up, staring at them intensely. Brick glances at Butch, clearly sending a telepathic message so he can _help_. Butch sighs.

"Look, Boomer," he says. "You're strong. As strong as either of us, and stronger than all those normies. If any of them wanna pick a fight, you fight. And you beat their asses, because you can."

"And," Brick adds. "Even if we don't show it, or say it, or _do_ it sometimes...we'll be rooting for you."

A small smile spreads across Boomer's face, the words making his chest warm. He ducks his head to hide the tears welling up in his eyes once again, willing them away with all his might.

"Thanks, you guys."

"Tch. Whatever," Butch scoffs, obviously embarrassed at the mushiness of the conversation. "I wanna know why that dirtbag beat you up in the first place. What happened?"

"Oh, he tried to trip me and I stepped on his foot instead," he responds immediately. "He got mad. Said he couldn't go home with grime on his foot, especially not grime from Townsville's scum."

He realizes too late that his brothers have gone deathly quiet. Before he can speak again, Butch speaks.

"Brick."

"Yeah?"

"Permission to go back and beat the shit out of that dickbag?"

"Tch. Hell yeah."

"W-wait!" he cries, grabbing Butch's arm. "W-we're on probation!"

"You're the only one capable of respecting that crap, Boomer," he retorts. "I, on the other hand—"

"Brick already threatened him, though! That's enough to make him steer clear of me for the rest of the school year, so just forget it!"

" _He called you scum, Boomer._ "

"We were made in a toilet, guys. That alone makes it hardly count as an insult."

"Can't I break a finger, at least?"

"NO. We're on _probation_ , you meathead."

"I heard you the first time."

* * *

He manages to convince them. They bicker endlessly on the way back home, but there's a nicer, more comfortable air this time.

They're both assholes. But they're his brothers. And even with all their fights and arguments, he wouldn't have any other way.

Brothers are for life. He's never been more sure of that before. It's a nice feeling.

He watches the sun set as his older, idiot brothers help him walk, watches them snap at each other and cackle at each joke.

And he smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Oi. I'm starting to think I'm physically incapable of writing a fic that doesn't have angst in it. But eh, I'm not complaining.
> 
> Yet another oneshot, centering around sibling love this time! I miss my siblings, so I guess this is kinda a tribute to them. I love those assholes.
> 
> I hope you liked it, and if you did (and even if you didn't but you still wanna), leave some reviews! :-)


End file.
